CUHK Series:The Other Shore: Plays by Gao Xingjian

by Xingjian Gao

A crack…

  Man:

  What’s this crack like?

  Girl:

  A crack…

  Man:

  Why a crack?

  Girl:

  A crack…

  Man:

  Where’s this crack?

  Girl:

  A crack…

  Man:

  Why is it called a crack?

  Girl:

  A crack…

  Man:

  A crack and a crack!

  Girl:

  A crack…

  Man:

  Why is there just a crack?

  Girl:

  A crack…

  Man:

  A crack is a crack!

  Girl:

  A crack…

  Man:

  Okay, fine, a crack, so? What about it?

  Girl:

  A crack…

  Man:

  To hell with the crack!

  Girl:

  A crack…

  Man:

  Only one crack?

  Girl:

  A crack…

  Man:

  Another crack?

  Girl:

  A crack…

  Man:

  (Exploding.) A cr—a—ck—?

  Girl:

  A crack…

  Man:

  (Laughs bitterly.) A crack.

  Girl:

  A crack…

  Man:

  (Talking to himself.) A crack…

  Girl:

  A crack…

  Man:

  (Murmuring.) A crack…

  Man & Girl:

  (Almost simultaneously.) A crack—

  (Monk coughs and throws the broom on the ground at the same time. He halts.

  Man and Girl are stunned by the noise, staring at Monk.

  Monk turns to face the audience. He inhales deeply and slowly and then exhales as slowly. All lights go out.

  Monk turns to open a curtain, revealing a greyish blue sky.

  Monk stands motionless and looks outside the door, his back to the audience. Gradually the wind starts to blow.)

  The end

  14 June 1992, Saint-Herblin, France.

  Some Suggestions on Producing Dialogue and Rebuttal

  1. The play is not intended to narrate a real or fictional story; the emphasis is on how to narrate or on the act of narration itself. Thus there is no need for the director to rationalize the characters or the stage setting, and he should instead focus his attention on the mode of narration and its variations according to the instructions in the script.

  2. The two characters in the play need not be sharply defined in terms of character traits. Shunning total identification, the actors playing the parts only have to ease themselves into the situations and pay attention to establishing communication with their partner and the audience. The acting must strive for clarity and simplicity.

  3. The key to the dialogue between Man and Girl lies in the use of personal pronouns. There is a distinction between Man’s uses of the first person “I” and the second person “You,” and between Girl’s use of the first person “I” and the third person “she.” With the first person “I,” the actor is the character; with the second person “You” or the third person “she,” the actor is referring to the character he or she is playing. When “I” is used, the acting should be natural; when “You” or “she” is used, the actor is listening closely to himself or herself, and the acting should stress somatic movements or even try to express itself through dancing.

  4. The actor playing the Monk will preferably be someone who has had some training in traditional Chinese opera or in the Japanese Noh play. However, as long as he can execute the movements prescribed in the script in a neat and tidy manner and without drawing attention to himself, he does not have to preoccupy himself with stylized movements or conventions.

  5. The play’s dialogic form is inspired by the gongan 公案 style of question and answer in Chinese Zen Buddhism. The play has no intention of promoting Buddhism, and there is no need for the director to devote his time and effort in expounding the meaning of Zen Buddhism. The author only wants to propose that this kind of dialogue and cross-questioning is capable of being dramatized as a form of stage performance.

  The above suggestions are for reference only.

  Annotation

  [83-1]A percussion instrument made of a hollow wooden block, used by Buddhist priests to make rhythm while chanting scriptures.

  Nocturnal Wanderer

  (A play in three acts)

  Characters:

  Traveller

  Old Man

  Young Woman

  Young Man

  Man

  Train Inspector

  (Actors playing the above roles can also play)

  Sleepwalker

  Tramp

  Prostitute

  Ruffian

  Thug

  Masked Person

  Act I

  (A first-class train cabin is located at front stage left. Light comes from the rear. There are two or three rows of red serge armchairs facing one another. To the right several passengers are sitting by a window with the blinds pulled up. Old Man sits by the door next to a vacant seat in the same row. Young Woman, covered in an overcoat, is resting on a row of seats to the left. Young Man is leaning on the door. There is a sign on the door, on which the words “No Smoking” have been scraped off, leaving only faint traces. The train rumbles along.

  Young Man takes out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He is going to light a cigarette when the train inspector enters.)

  Inspector:

  Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Tickets please!

  Young Man:

  (Smiling at him.) Somebody picked my pocket.

  Inspector:

  And the ticket’s gone too?

  Young Man:

  They swiped my money and my bags at the station. Damn it, I didn’t even have time to buy another ticket. I’ve got to hurry to the match, an international tournament, I had no choice but….

  Inspector:

  You’re an athlete?

  Young Man:

  Kind of. Marine sport, motorized sailboat, you know. It’s very fashionable these days. We’ve even got a sponsor. (Smiles)

  Inspector:

  Any I.D.? That’s swiped too, I presume?

  Young Man:

  Of course I have I.D. (Takes out a piece of paper from his pocket.) And the report issued by the police at the station.

  (Inspector takes the report and writes on his notebook.)

  Young Man:

  It’s not a common last name. A bit strange, isn’t it?

  Inspector:

  (Returns the paper. Turns to Old Man.) Mister, your ticket please.

  Old Man:

  (He is rolling a cigarette. He lifts his head.) No ticket.

  Inspector:

  And no money?

  Old Man:

  No.

  Inspector:

  Where did you get on?

  Old Man:

  (Mumbles.) I just got on.

  Inspector:

  Where are you going?

  Old Man:

  Maastricht.

  Inspector:

  Where?

  Old Man:

  M…A…A…S…T…R…I…C…H…T. Maastricht!

  Inspector:

  This train doesn’t stop there. I’m afraid you’re on the wrong train. What’s your nationality?

  Old Man:

  (With an accent.) Foreign.

  Inspector:

  Do you speak English?

  Old Man:

  (Syllable by syllable.) Vo…lun…tar…y fo…reign…er.

  Inspector:

  Have you got a passport?

  (Old Man fumbles in his pockets, fishes out a passport and shows it to Inspector.)

  Inspector:

  How come it doesn’t show your address, your regular place of residence?


  (Old Man looks at him and does not say a word. Inspector gives up, records the information on his notebook and returns the passport.)

  Inspector:

  (To Traveller) Ticket please, mister.

  (Traveller hands him the ticket.)

  Inspector:

  This is a second-class ticket, and you’re in first-class.

  Traveller:

  Where does it say that? There isn’t a sign or anything.

  Inspector:

  Anything that’s red, red armchairs, red carpet, etc., means it’s first-class.

  Traveller:

  Where’s the second-class coach then?

  Inspector:

  This is the European Express, which has no second-class coach. With this ticket you should’ve got on the last train, or the next, in which case you’ll have to wait another two and a quarter hours. You have to pay another…(Checks his price list.) two hundred and fifty.

  (Traveller pays. Young Man opens his eyes wide and stares at him.)

  Inspector:

  (Writes a receipt and hands it to Traveller.) Thank you. (To Young Woman) Lady…

  (Young Woman takes out a ticket from her handbag and hands it to him.)

  Inspector:

  (Takes a look.) This ticket’s expired

  Young Woman:

  Oh, I’m sorry.

  Inspector:

  Have you got another ticket?

  Young Woman:

  Of course. (She gets up to pick up her handbag and puts on her overcoat.) Excuse me. (She goes outside and opens the handbag to look for the ticket.)

  (Inspector follows her outside. Young Man comes in, sits down, and lights a cigarette.)

  Young Woman:

  Strange, I have absolutely no idea where I could possibly have left it. How come I can’t find it?

  Inspector:

  Are you like this all the time?

  Young Woman:

  Oh no, only when…(Closes the handbag and pulls her overcoat up high to reveal her thigh.)

  Inspector:

  All right. Good luck! (Exits)

  (Young Woman comes back inside.)

  Young Man:

  (Stands up and lets Young Woman sit down by the window.) Excuse me, please. (Sits down next to her.)

  (Young Woman pays no attention to him but clings to her overcoat.)

  Young Man:

  (To Traveller) It’s funny. You bought the ticket, right? But you still have to pay the fine. (He takes out a few tickets from his shirt pocket and show them to Traveller. Then he stuffs them back and winks at him.) Follow the rules and they’ll give it to you. You’ve gotta be tough and know how to play with them. They’ll only take this, you know.

  (Traveller smiles and picks up a book to read.)

  Young Man:

  (Turns to Young Woman) Excuse me, are you on vacation? A rendezvous? A very special trip, if I’m not mistaken? You’re offended? Sorry, just asking.

  (Young Woman leans her head on the window to sleep, her eyes closed. Man enters in raincoat and top hat. He takes a look at the faded no-smoking sign, comes in through the door and sits down. He takes out a cigar. Young Man offers him a light.)

  Man:

  Thanks. They give you a sleeping berth and a diner where you can wine and dine yourself. They offer all kinds of services, but they don’t give you no place to smoke! Except for this tiny little corner here. At first I wasn’t even sure. If you smoke you’re not supposed to travel in comfort, right? Tell me, what sort of stupid set-up is this?

  (Nobody answers him. Young Woman turns off the light above her seat and closes her eyes. Traveller starts to read a book. The vibrating sound of two trains meeting becomes louder. The light in the left corner begins to darken.)

  A voice reading:

  It’s night and the rain is drizzling beneath the street lights. You can’t remember clearly how long it has been in this city, polluted by the clattering of car engines and exhaust fumes all day, since you took such a leisurely stroll and felt such refreshing rain. The air is moist and fresh; as to whether it’s really fresh or not, it’snone of your concern. Anyway, the streets are totally deserted: no pedestrians, no cars. Now you can take a stroll any way you like, and without any purpose. There’s no need to see anybody, no need to say hello to anybody, no need to be polite, and no need to utter any meaningless words.

  In fact, in the middle of the hustle and bustle of the city, you have not been able to live your life fully. You’re either in front of somebody or behind somebody, and you’re always squeezed and squashed among the crowd. If you missed one step, somebody would surely crash into you, then you’d have to say sorry to somebody or that somebody would have to say sorry to you, even though no one is really sorry. Just like the phrase “How are you?”, which you have to say countless times in a single day. But even if you told people you’re not well, you think anyone would care and help you with your problems? People suffer from so many nameless anxieties all the time: they turn them over and over in their minds, they worry themselves to death, and they torment themselves mentally and physically, but how could they possibly find a way out?

  (The gradually brightening stage reveals a lamppost, on which is hung a yellowish street light. It faintly illuminates the rainy and foggy night. A street corner slowly becomes visible. Sleepwalker’s back is seen at the street corner. He has on only an undershirt which almost stretches to his knees. His thighs are bare. On his feet are a pair of thick and heavy shoes. The shoelaces are undone and dangling.)

  Sleepwalker:

  You can hear your own footsteps, you can hear your own breathing. When you take a deep breath and the air rushes in from the tip of your nose to your lungs, you feel cold all over…Only your feet are heated and warm. When a man’s feet are warm, he feels snug and comfortable.

  These shoes are quite heavy, they’re also very sturdy. When you walk on the street and your feet feel sturdy, there’s no need to hurry, and no need to look left and right. You can go wherever you want to go, be it on the pavement or in the middle of the road. Walk where your heart leads you, there are no restrictions and no burdens. (Playfully walking backwards on his heels.)

  Finally you’re free of all responsibilities, free of all troubles. You know, man asks for troubles himself. Everyone has to have either this or that problem, if he can’t find any problem, he loses all reason for living. But at this moment in time you have absolutely no problems at all. (Thinking.) No problem whatsoever, nothing, really nothing! It’s hard to say if it’s lucky for a man not to have any problems. In the final analysis, you should congratulate yourself somewhat. And because everyone has problems and you don’t, you can’t help but tell it to the world. But the street is empty, so you can only tell it to yourself: Hear! Hear! You’re the only person without any problem in this huge metropolis!

  (He kicks and taps his feet, and after a while, he switches into another piece of fancy footwork, finally landing on a pile of cardboard boxes in front of a store which has been closed for the night.)

  Tramp:

  What the hell is going on? (Sticking his neck out from the box.)

  Sleepwalker:

  You say you didn’t see…

  Tramp:

  Look, this is a huge cardboard box, not a dinky needle. There’s no way you could’ve missed it.

  Sleepwalker:

  Sorry.

  Tramp:

  Sorry my ass!

  Sleepwalker:

  You say you weren’t looking, and you thought that this late at night only the garbage waiting to be picked up would be stored in the cardboard boxes discarded in the street. You didn’t think that you’d be resting inside. Therefore you offer an apology.

  Tramp:

  You woke me up!

  Sleepwalker:

  You say you’re really sorry. You thought that you’re only relieving yourself inside, and you didn’t know that you also slept in there. This calls for a double apology.

  Tramp:

  You have
a walking problem or something?

  Sleepwalker:

  Walk, you say of course you know how to walk. But how should you put it? You don’t usually walk like that, it’s just that you felt so good that you got carried away, and you bumped into you by accident. You can only say you’re sorry.

  Tramp:

  You could’ve walked like you used to, couldn’t you?

  Sleepwalker:

  You say the problem is you can’t go back to the way you used to…You’ve forgotten how to alternate your feet…

  Tramp:

  One foot in front, and the other behind! Didn’t your mom teach you how to walk when you were small? You’re asking for trouble, aren’t you? (Crawling out of the box.)

  Sleepwalker:

  You say okay you’ll walk, like this…(Slips out one foot to try.)

  Tramp:

  What’s wrong with you, blind or something?

  Sleepwalker:

  You say your eyes are not blind, but—. (Thinking to himself.) You understand perfectly but you can’t say it out, once you tell the truth, you’re through.

  Tramp:

  So you gonna walk or not?

  Sleepwalker:

  You say right away, but you’re trying to think of a place to go…You don’t know where you should go.

  Tramp:

  Just follow the street and go straight. If something hits your nose, make a turn!

  (Sleepwalker cautiously explores the road with his feet. Tramp retires into the cardboard box.)

  Sleepwalker:

  (Goes to the middle of the road.) Everybody wants to control you, everybody wants to be God. (Stops.) You only wanted to take a leisurely stroll, without purpose and without destination; what fun is there if you’re told where to go? People are always telling you to do this, to do that and then when troubles comes it’syou who have to bear the brunt. It’s like the so-called “purpose.” If they let a rabbit go and tell you to chase after it, what are you going to do when the rabbit runs away? (He turns his head but cannot find Tramp. He shouts.) You have no purpose, no direction. Just walk on and live with it!